Us
by SigynDenning
Summary: A week before Loki leaves for college, Thor asks him to stay. ModernAu, Thorki.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, pplz! I am back—finally. This is one of two stories I wrote for Camp NaNoWriMo, which was really fun! There were several amazing people on Tumblr with whom I shared a cabin (Norationalthoughtrequired, Lizardbeths, and Jordanwyn), and I want to thank them for all the encouragement they gave me in finishing this! Originally, the idea was going in the trash pile, but then I realized my first story wouldn't have enough words for me to reach my goal. Sooo, it actually happened. (I also want to thank Zoroasterperetola on Tumblr for inspiring me.) I intended it to be about 3000 words. It turned out to be 13k, whoops. XD Also turned out to be more angsty than fluffy, but _whatever_. That's normal. And it's still more fluffy than the other story... Norns help me. XD Hope you all enjoy!

Warning: If you're not into incest or Thorki, then this is probably not for you. There's another story that I'm close to posting in which Thorki will be minimal (and skip-able), and I have plans for a gen fic in the future. This, however, is blatantly sexual. Turn back nowww. XD

Summary: A week before Loki leaves for college, Thor asks him to stay.

* * *

Day One

Loki finally surrenders and turns from his computer to face his brother full on. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Not only does the game give Thor an excuse to join his brother's company, but it also lends him a chance to keep hold of that company forever. Despite Loki's clear irritation, Thor won't back down. "Of course," he says.

"You know the rules? No dictionaries, thesauruses, or help of any kind when I give you a word. If you can't answer, then you have one chance to stump me, and that's it. If you manage it, you win. If you don't, you lose. You understand this?"

Of course, Loki remains stubborn. Thor doesn't let himself falter. "Yep."

"And should I catch you cheating, I will never return any of your phone calls, messages, or letters, and I will absolutely refuse to see you any more than I have to."

The thought of a world without his brother sends a jolt of fear down his spine, but he quells his rising heartbeat and simply shrugs. It's an empty threat meant to dissuade him. Nothing more. "You know I don't cheat, Loki."

Loki stares at him with raised eyebrows to challenge Thor's sincerity, and Thor stays still. He has spent months studying roots, memorizing definitions, and heightening his vocabulary, and there is nothing in the world that will stop him from proving to Loki just how much he cares.

Eventually, Loki's shoulders deflate. "Fine. If you're serious, give me your hand. We'll shake on it."

Grinning, Thor hops off his position on the bed and easily strides to Loki's desk chair. Their hands touch for the first time in what feels like forever. "If I win, you stay."

Testing green eyes settle on Thor's face. "Right. And if I win, you don't stop me."

"Deal," Thor agrees.

They shake, and Loki's eyes fill with determined secrecy, the kind he often shows when he's about to unleash some clever play that will leave all of his opponents breathless and stunned.

With no intention of letting him, Thor says the first word that comes to his mind. "'Hopeful.'"

"'Naive,'" Loki says without thought, but his eyes lose that terrifying gleam. "'Pompous.'"

The word is meant to insult him. He pushes away any emotion and focuses on the definitions and synonyms he has learned. He must _think_ to win this. Thor takes a step back to sit down on the bed while he ponders for a moment. "'Arrogant.'"

"Very good, Brother." Loki's eyes twinkle in the light. "Very unexpected. There is hope for you yet if this challenge has interested you in studying, and Father will be so pleased to learn you have a brain."

Knowing his brother's scheme, Thor chooses to ignore the barb to his intelligence. "'Stay,'" he says instead.

"Seriously? You are so dull. 'Remain.' Try 'brutish.'"

Thor glares.

"Oh, don't act all offended." A mischievous smile spreads across Loki's face, regardless that his target remains unamused. "Every word you've chosen so far has reeked of sentiment. Why can I not share my true feelings towards you?"

Thor knows what Loki's trying to do. He wants Thor to lose himself to his rage and slip into an error that will lose him the game—or worse, Loki's good will. Thor has to stay on high alert if he wants to keep Loki's company. "'Beastly,'" he says calmly.

"Mmm." Loki's lips twist into a snarl at the correct answer. "Again, surprising. At any rate, I have work to do, and as much as I would just _love_ to play this game all night, it is rather late. Go to bed."

Thor glances reluctantly towards the door with no intent to move. He wants Loki to speak, to take it back, to let him stay for a while longer.

Just as Loki expects, judging from the way his lips reform silently into satisfaction.

It hurts to see his brother reject him so. He wants (_needs_) to spend time with his brother. There is only a week left now before Loki might leave, a week in which Thor wants to savor every last shred of affection between them—before Loki's life takes him in a direction far away. He has never done so before, it has always been Loki who came to Thor's room during their childhood, but he's about to ask Loki if he can sleep in here for the night.

Loki's dry chuckle cuts into his thoughts. "Don't mope, Thor, it doesn't suit you," Loki says. "As long as you don't cheat, you can still call me, after all."

It's an empty promise. "If you answer you phone," Thor mutters.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Standing, Thor paces to the door, flips the light for his brother, and then pauses in the door frame to look back.

Through the blinds of the window, moonlight illuminates the dexterity of his brother's fingers as they pound incessantly on the keyboard. His flawless skin glows white in the dark, but he doesn't look up, no matter how resolutely Thor waits.

The inattention of his brother increases Thor's discomfort, but he strives to keep his feet planted—just in case Loki changes his mind. He wants to see those bright, clever eyes of emeralds once more before he sleeps.

After several delayed moments, Loki's fingers pause. "Go to bed, Thor. I'm tired, and I need to finish this."

Thor's hand wraps around the door knob. "'Forever,'" he tries softly.

Loki brows draw into a frown. "'Eternity.'" He still doesn't look up.

Throat tight, Thor closes the door and goes to bed. Once he hears the whiz of a computer shutting down in the adjacent room and the creaking of a bed, he finally manages to catch some sleep.

* * *

A/N: Since this is really short, I posted the second chapter along with it. Every chapter actually is already written and just in need of editing, so you can count on this story being finished. I shall try to post Day 3 as soon as possible. If you want to find me on Tumblr to talk more, my username is sigyndenning, but otherwise, see you guys soon! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Day Two

"What are you reading? Is that a dictionary?"

His friend settles next to him on the bench, and Thor glances briefly at her. "Yeah."

His classes ended an hour ago, but he remains, in the library, afraid to return home and infringe on his brother's company yet again. Besides, studying here will help to brush up on his vocabulary and to warm up before the real battle begins again.

"He accepted your challenge then?" Sif drops her bag onto the floor and pulls out her laptop. "That's good, I guess, but remember a few months of studying isn't going to compete well with his whole life."

His heart surges with the urge to argue, but what she says is true. "I know," Thor says, eyes trained on the text, "but he won't agree unless it's in his advantage. And I've already surprised him."

"Mmm. Thor?"

Thor finally marks his place with a finger and looks seriously at his friend. Her eyes burn with compassion for him, but at the same time, he already knows her opinion on this. He should let Loki go, he understands—but Sif will never understand the way Loki behaves and how important it is that he stays. Loki's a chameleon. If you look away for too long, he will disappear.

Sif sighs. "Why don't you just tell him?"

And that is why he values her friendship. Sif is the only one with whom he felt comfortable to confess his true feelings, the only one who would never tease him for such devotion to his younger brother. And she is the only one now who can guess the real reason Thor wants Loki to stay.

"I don't know how to tell him," he admits.

Sif reaches out and touches him on the shoulder, and Thor leans into the comfort of her friendship. "How would you tell anyone else?" she asks.

"You know I'm horrible at explaining things."

"Then show him."

Easier said than done, but he is through acting the coward.

That night, he spends hours of his mother's patience, mixing flour and butter and sugar until his hands and hair are sticky and white. At the end, he comes upstairs before Loki's alarming sense of smell can catch whiff of the plan, and he presents Loki with his favorite, strawberry-flavored scones.

Loki eyes the the mess of ingredients that is Thor's hair. "You helped Mother make them?"

A sense of pride fills him. "_I _made them," Thor says.

Gingerly, Loki takes one of the scones and scrutinizes it for a while. Several moments pass before he takes a bite, and several more pass before he takes another one. Thor's shoulders relax.

"Tolerable," Loki says, his eyebrows furrowing.

Thor grins. "Adequate."

"Ah, very assuming, dear Brother," Loki says. "How did you know that was the next word?"

"You get a weird look. Your eyebrows tilt." In a better mood than yesterday, Thor sits down on his usual spot on the bed and dives into his own scone, which doesn't taste half as bad as he thought it would. "Whenever you're thinking about something. It's pretty—"_adorable _"—funny, actually." He covers his near slip by swallowing an excessive amount of dessert. Show him, he reminds himself, don't use words.

Loki sets down his plate and regards Thor with his full attention. "I see."

"Can I sleep here tonight?" Thor blurts.

Immediately Thor regrets his words as the hum of nighttime wind outside overwhelms their conversation. Loki's face remains unreadable as ever, even more so than usual, and there's no way to tell how he will eventually react or what he will say.

Thor's instincts scream to apologize before Loki endlessly torments him for it, but a part of him refuses to relinquish his hope that Loki will let him stay.

"Hm," Loki finally says, a single eyebrow arched in an elegant line, "I suppose that would depend on your vocabulary. Let's try a few rounds."

"'Emerald,'" Thor says while glancing at the dazzling light in Loki's eyes.

"'Green.'" Loki smirks. "'Star.'"

He pictures the night sky outside immediately and can't think of anything else that could possibly name one of the dim lights in the darkness. The realization startles him, but before any panic can seize him, he focuses. Loki is trying to outsmart him. Then he remembers another definition for star. "'Celebrity,'" he says, and looks to Loki's strands of hair, smoothed back and gorgeous. "'Ebony.'"

"'Black.' My, are you describing my appearance, Brother? 'Temper.'"

Another trick, and he is not fooled. "'Soothe.'" He swallows. "'Alluring.'"

Then, Loki frowns, and Thor believes he has made a grave mistake. His shoulders tense.

"First you make scones for me," Loki says slowly, "then you ask to sleep here for the first time in our lives, and now this. What are you trying to tell me?"

He swallows again. "It's just a game."

"Mmm. 'Attractive.'"

Feeling defeated when Loki doesn't offer another word, Thor pushes himself to his feet and prepares to head to his room for another tiring night.

Before he takes one step, Loki grabs the hem of his sleeve. "Where are you going? I said you could stay."

_No, you didn't. _Thor shoves the words out of his mind and tries to calm the frustration welling up inside. Loki seems to make constant efforts to confuse and trick—as if he enjoys watching Thor scramble to do one thing wrong just so he can enjoy telling Thor to do something else. Sometimes, it's hard to let Loki play with him like a toy, just to get what he wants.

Huffing, he makes his way back to Loki's bed, only to hear Loki chuckling. "Well, now that I think about it, I _would _prefer to avoid flour on my pillows, if possible."

Thor growls. "Loki—"

"Calm yourself, Thor. I didn't say you had to shower alone."

The anger drains out of Thor as if through a sift. He stares at Loki, unsure if either his ears or his mind have misunderstood.

But Loki sits up straighter in his chair and unbuttons the collar of his shirt slowly. Their eyes lock for the entire time.

Heat rises in Thor's chest, and he imagines sucking marks into the pale expanse of neck his brother reveals. The images fill his mind, of his brother naked and trembling beneath him, their limbs tangled in a sweaty mess—it might be a joke. It still might be a joke.

"Thinking too hard again, I see," Loki whispers. "Your head looks like it's about to break." He smiles. "Come now, you're always horrible at hiding your secrets from me, and tonight you weren't even trying. Tell me—how long have you felt this way?"

He isn't joking. Thor forces himself to breathe evenly through his nose and out through his mouth. "A long time," he admits.

"I see. So now that I'm leaving, you have found the perfect opportunity. You must figure you'll lose me either way," Loki says. "Very clever of you."

Thor frowns. "No, now that you're leaving, I realize I should have told you the truth eons ago. I don't want you to go, Loki. I want you to stay, whether you reciprocate or not. Why don't you understand that?"

"Understand what? That you're selfish and stubborn and you won't let me pursue something that I _love _? Everything is always about you. Where you go to college, what you plan to do with your future, your goals, your life, your friends, your dreams—why not, for one second, will someone just think about what _I _want?"

"You can pursue whatever you want _right here _!"

"It's one of the best schools in the world," Loki says. "_ The world. _What do you expect me to do?"

"I expect you to care!" Thor bellows. The silence that follows reminds him that their parents are sleeping, but while Thor lowers his voice, his feelings remain strong and vicious. "The year I spent on the soccer team—traveling all the time—you never picked up your phone. Not once. When I came home, I barely recognized you."

Loki runs a hand through his hair, though tears spring to his eyes. "Oh, don't be ridiculous—"

"I mean it. I barely even know you right now. Sometimes . . ." Thor pauses here as his heart pounds sickeningly. "Sometimes I wonder if you'll ever come back after you leave."

Loki stares at him with an expression of utter misery. "There's not much this place offers me," he says quietly.

It's as good as a confirmation. Thor storms out of Loki's room.

"Thor, wait!"

He slams the door and doesn't look back.


	3. Chapter 3

Day Three

In the morning, Loki knocks on Thor's door.

Thor doesn't think he can stand seeing Loki again knowing that his brother is just going to leave his home and family forever. He takes an extra long time to get ready, just so he has an excuse not to answer.

His friends made plans with him tonight—plans he accepted after storming out of Loki's room the night before, because he needs something to keep him occupied, something to move past his anger and accept the fact that his little brother _wants _to leave him.

Eventually, the knocking stops, and Thor actually focuses on brushing his teeth. Just to be sure, he makes his bed and tidies his room (sloppily, as he rarely does so), and finally, _finally_ he goes to his door, expecting Loki to be well downstairs and eating breakfast.

Instead, he finds Loki sitting on the floor of the hallway. "Morning," Loki murmurs.

Thor's fists clench, though he holds his temper.

After a moment, he catches site of the shadows and redness circling Loki's eyes—he has cried recently.

Suddenly it's hard to figure out how to handle this, because his previous rage insists that he stomp downstairs and ignore his brother, but at the same time, the tears prove that Loki _does _care, at least a little—and he can't in good conscious ignore him now.

"I made pancakes," Loki says, and pushes himself to his feet. "They're downstairs. And I cleared my schedule for the rest of the week."

It's not enough. "You're still going to leave," Thor says and turns to go down the hallway.

Loki's eyes track him, but he doesn't move. "Not if you win the game," he says quietly.

Thor stops.

"I . . . told you there isn't much for me here." An unusually harsh exhale cuts through Loki's words. "It was the truth. You know as well as I do that things would go more smoothly with the family if I left. Father could pretend I'm normal and successful when I'm far away, and Mother . . ." Loki stops again, and back turned, Thor can still hear the anguish in his voice. "Well, she wouldn't fight with him so much."

Frowning, Thor turns to face his little brother and shakes his head. "That's not your fault."

"I know . . . but it burdens me to be here. Constantly expected to be a certain way yet overlooked. Borrowing your friends. I want to go to a place where people don't know me. Or you." Loki draws in a small breath. "But if I did stay," he says in a voice so soft that Thor strains to hear, "I'd stay for you."

Heart in his throat, Thor fumbles with his belt loops. "I made plans with Sif and them tonight."

He regrets those plans now, because all at once, he remembers how little time he and his brother have together. At the same time, he doesn't want to change his mind with such short notice and cancel on them either.

"That's fine," Loki says.

The following silence reveals exactly what they're _not _talking about.

Neither of them mention what dark secret Loki discovered the night before. It's too fragile a subject for the wreck that their friendship is now. Loki stares directly into Thor's eyes, as if expecting him to say something about the feelings he confessed—but Thor doesn't know what to say.

The silence grows awkward with the gaping hole, until Loki finally speaks. "Well, do you want me to join you tonight then?"

Thor pounces on the subject presenting an escape, and then stunned, he double checks his brother's sincerity. "You want to come with me to see _them_?"

Smiling, Loki shrugs. "Not particularly interested in seeing them, but yes, I want to come with you. Who knows? I might even behave."

Thor affectionately bumps his fist to his brother's chest. "You better."

And Loki's smile widens.

It feels good, almost as though Loki is considering staying. Deep down in his heart, Thor remembers that first night—when that gleam appeared in Loki's eye—and Thor fears he will not win the game. Even so, the game is a distraction. If he can show Loki he can be just as happy here as anywhere else, maybe Loki will decide to stay anyway.

"_If I did stay, I'd stay for you."_

Much more spirited, Thor leads the way downstairs and to the pancakes.

* * *

That night, Loki does behave. Too well.

Loki doesn't latch on to the sensitive subjects carelessly mentioned as he usually does. He remains bright and talkative and social, even going as far to drink a couple shots of beer, which is rare enough to note.

At some point, he even leaves Thor's side to follow Fandral into the kitchen.

For a few minutes, it eases Thor's mind to see him enjoying himself, and he drinks to encourage his good spirits. Then, Loki does not return from the kitchen, and a strange emotion starts to swirl in Thor's gut.

"Did you tell him?" Sif asks while Hogun and Volstagg play a video game.

"He guessed," Thor says. His eyes focus on the bright light beyond the door.

There's no noise, other than the unintelligible sound of a conversation, but Thor still feels slighted somehow. He came here to have fun with _Loki_, not for Loki to abandon him with Fandral.

"And?" Sif asks.

"I'm not sure."

He honestly doesn't know how his brother reacted to the news. It's no secret his brother takes interest in men, but incest is an entirely different subject. And—Fandral admitted years ago he was gay.

The thought sends the swirling feeling into a turmoil of rage. "What are they doing in there?" he blurts.

"Just talking probably." Sif smirks. "It seems Loki wasn't offended about the incestuous aspect."

Irrationally, Thor wants to wipe the smirk off her face with how similarly it matches Loki's, but Sif is just trying to help—he thinks. "How do you know that he wasn't offended?" he says.

"Because of how he's acting right now. It's clear he wants you jealous."

"Yeah? Well, it's working." Irritated, Thor bounces to his feet and stalks over to the kitchen where he throws open the door.

Inside, Fandral and Loki innocent sit on the counter while Loki fumbles with his phone. Their feet are bare and touching, and Fandral's chin lies too snugly on Loki's shoulder. More importantly, they're not kissing.

Momentarily stunned at failing to capture them in anything more than a conversation, Thor pauses at the entrance.

"Oh, Thor!" Loki says. "You're just in time."

Thor growls a low warning. "In time for what?"

"We were about to take a selfie," says Fandral.

And Loki giggles.

Loki.

Giggles.

"Come here, Thor," Loki says, "come join us. Try not to smash anything."

Adrenaline pumping, Thor crosses the entire room in exactly three strides and glares straight into the camera.

"Smiiiile," Loki says and his camera audibly snaps the picture. "Oh, Thor, that is the ugliest face I've ever seen you make. Why don't you take a few more lessons from your _dashing _friend?"

Fandral laughs. "I'm not sure I'd even want to try."

"Loki," Thor says lowly. His blood thrums to his heartbeat.

"Let's see." Another giggle. "Tipsy. Give me a synonym for tipsy."

Thor says nothing, even as Fandral surveys them both in confusion.

"Are you stumped? Does this mean I win?" Loki asks.

"Intoxicated," Thor spits. He's going to _win_. Right now. "Carnage."

"What is this?" Fandral asks.

They both ignore him.

"Ahaha, bloodshed. Violent much, Brother?" Loki giggles again and leans close enough to Fandral that their cheeks touch. "Jealousy."

Thor grabs Loki by the scruff of his collar. "Envy! We're going home."

As he drags his brother to the door, he sees more shots of beers scattered across the counter top and realizes Loki is much more drunk than he realized. Loki laughs wildly and waves to all of their friends, who look on with wide eyes, knowing better than to come between Thor and his rage.

"Thooor, you can't drive, you're drunk," Loki whines as Thor all but tosses him into the backseat of the car.

"I'm buzzed. _You're _drunk. And we're not driving. We're sitting here until I'm sober."

"In the car? So boring!"

"Shut up." Thor tears out his phone and to catch up on his text messages and status updates to keep himself busy, though it turns out to be more of a distraction from the lust narrowing in on the warm body pressed up against him. "Stop fidgeting," Thor snaps, and Loki stills.

It's utter quiet for one blessed moment, until Loki twitches again, his hand settling comfortably by Thor's leg. It stills before Thor has a chance to shout again, but a few minutes later, the hand inches closer to Thor's inner thigh.

Thor pushes the hand away. "Stop it," he growls.

Loki snorts. "Stop what? I'm just getting comfortable."

Another few minutes, and Loki's hand moves again, this time with much more certainty, as he plants it directly on Thor's crotch.

Jumping, Thor shoves Loki's hand away. "What are you—"

Loki presses hot lips to his before he can even finish the sentence, and all of the rage and jealousy coiled up in Thor's stomach releases in pure and unhindered _want_. He wraps arms around Loki's shoulders and presses their heads tightly together. The parking lot of the apartment complex is empty at this time of night, but it could be rush hour on a Monday and Thor wouldn't care.

"Mmm, Thor, fuck me—"

"Right here?"

"No, let's go outside first. _Yes, you idiot_."

Loki presses his chest to Thor's, and their hearts beat in unison through the fabric of their clothes. While Loki unbuttons his shirt, Thor mindlessly lowers his arms to give his brother room and grips the tight set of Loki's jeans. Panting heavily, Loki pulls off his shirt, and Thor sucks on Loki's collarbone, hardly believing his fantasy real.

"Please—Thor, ahhhh—I want you,"Loki moans breathlessly. His hands fumble with the buttons of Thor's jeans. "Hurry."

Thor helps him with his jeans, never once ending the contact between his lips and Loki's salty, pale skin, and once the pants lay in a heap on the car floor, he works on freeing his brother's pulsing erection.

"Ahhhh," Loki moans as it comes free.

Thor's own hardens at the sound. Loki's shirt comes straight off, and Thor presses him straight into the backseat cushion of the car. He wants to give Loki the next word—his brother is drunk _and _incoherently lusting. He could win. He could win right now, at the same time as Thor comes down on Loki—shared breath and sweat mingling.

Loki's trembling hips buck directly against Thor's.

Only then does Thor actually think about what they're doing.

"Loki, you're drunk," he says, and pulls so reluctantly away.

It doesn't help that Loki shakes his head, moaning full-heartedly, and uses his hands to grind their hips together. The car steams up with the heat and sweat their bodies release, and oh—he wants this _so bad_.

"Loki, I'm serious," he says through clenched teeth. "I can't do this."

"Thor, pleeease, I swear—I'm completely consenting."

The odd formation of the words from _Loki's _lips just proves Thor's point. "Get up. Get your pants on."

"Thoooor," Loki whines.

Thor shoves clothes at Loki and starts on his own, when he catches sight of someone making their way out to the parking lot.

Breath stuttering in his chest, he recognizes the man as one of Fandral's neighbors. "Fuck, get dressed," Thor says, and yanks a pair of jeans up his legs. The zipper doesn't close all the way, but there's no time to wait.

Loki sees the neighbor as well, and sobers enough to yank on the clothes. They scramble to the front seat, and Thor starts the engine and flips on the headlights so the glare will conceal his bare chest. He drives slowly at first, to make sure any effects of the small amount of alcohol have worn off, and then starts driving home.

Loki giggles in the passenger's seat halfway there.

"What?" Thor says. Then he notices the clothes Loki wears are far too baggy.

"You're wearing my pants," Loki says as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

Thor smiles. It's been an age. "Explains the zipper," he says, and Loki bursts into more peals of laughter. He buries the lust in his body with the relief that he still knows how his brother smiles.

When he gets home and ensures Loki is safely tucked into bed with a cool glass of water on his nightstand, Thor feels an abundance of guilt more sobering than the neighbor nearly spotting them in the parking lot.

He nearly fucked his brother.

His _drunk _brother.

And possibly ruined any chance of convincing Loki to stay.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it took me so long. On top of this being a terrible chapter, I've been working on other things. This fanfiction was meant more as a happy distraction to me while I wrote total angst. XD But I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Day Four

Loki sleeps in the next morning, long after Thor has already gone to classes. As he sits listening to a teacher drone on and on, he starts to regret the series of poor decisions he made the night before. On one hand, he wants to go home and salvage their friendship as soon as possible. On the other hand, he's terrified to even meet Loki's eyes after what happened.

Thor attends his classes for the summer semester as normal, and his nervousness to go home and see his brother makes the day longer. Each minute drags by until finally his last class is released.

The apprehension only increases when he comes home to find Loki still in bed and irritable.

Struck by the tense coiling of his gut, Thor avoids any reminders of last night and doesn't dare to broach the subject at all. "You want to catch a movie tonight?" he asks the lump of pillows and blankets that hides Loki from view.

"No," Loki says. "I'm sick."

"Loki, it's five in the afternoon. You're not hungover anymore."

"I don't want to." Loki buries his face further into the pillows of his bed and goes limp and unresponsive. One of his feet slips out from under the blanket, and Thor reaches to tickle the curve heel. Even that does nothing but drag a patient sigh from Loki's lips.

"'Subtle,'" Thor tries.

Loki's eyes blink open to glare. No words are necessary to convey that his brother is absolutely not in the mood for the game right now.

Thor simply grins."Do you forfeit?"

"'Slight,'" Loki hisses, "'_perturbed.'_"

"'Irritated.' Come on, get up. I'll buy you ice cream."

There's little Loki can do to resist his dessert. Sure enough, his eyes narrow in interest. "What flavor?" he asks suspiciously.

"What do you think? Strawberry, of course."

"Fine!"

Though the word sounds ferocious, Thor relaxes somewhat at the return to normal bickering, rather than the indifference Loki had shown. It encourages his decision to not remind Loki of last night—maybe he doesn't even remember.

Once Loki pulls himself out of bed, Thor leaves his room and shuts the door so that Loki can get dressed and ready.

After a few minutes, Loki comes out in the tightest jeans he owns, topped by a button-up shirt layered with a close fitting black vest. It reveals the lines of his body clearly to Thor. Loki's hair lies flawlessly with only a couple strands brushing against his forehead, and Thor itches to reach out and brush them away.

Underneath the undone buttons of Loki's shirt, Thor catches a glimpse of the mark he inflicted on Loki's collarbone last night, and turns his eyes away as an incredible amount of guilt explodes within him. The undone buttons are probably deliberate. Loki probably _wants _him to feel guilty, _wants _him to humiliate himself and sinfully check out his own little brother.

With that in mind, Thor directs every cell in his body to avoid looking at his brother at all.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Loki stiffen. "Well? The ice cream better be well worth your stupid taste in movies," Loki says. He sounds even more irritable than before.

"Hey, you liked the last one I chose," Thor says.

"I tolerated it. There is a difference."

"Right." Thor glances at Loki's face to see if his brother is teasing, and instead notices this may run deeper than Thor originally thought. Loki's jaw clenches as Thor studies him, as if holding his breath, and—it must be that he remembers last night. Swallowing, Thor forces himself to look away, cringing at the way Loki's shoulders deflate. "Well, let's go find out then."

Thor battles his lust and pointedly ignores Loki's appearance during the car ride—the way tight jeans reveal the exact shape of Loki's legs, the way his unbuttoned collar begs Thor to reach over and brush across rarely showing skin. Unfortunately his peripheral vision sees enough.

It's harder now, to shove such scandalous thoughts aside and simply enjoy the company of his brother, because the secret is out in the open between them. Thor had a taste last night, and now it's even more difficult to not _want_. But he can't lose his brother, so he perseveres.

Even when Loki crosses his legs and settles one hand on his own crotch, using the other to finger the next button of his shirt—even then, Thor doesn't look.

And Loki's glare darkens—Thor wants to fix that chasm between them by showing Loki he can be just as much of a brother as before and burying his lustful desires, no matter what his brother throws at him. He focuses his eyes on the road for the rest of the way, but strangely, Loki's mood seems to decline even more with each passing second.

"Ice cream now or after?" Thor asks as they park.

"I don't care," Loki mutters and gets out of the car.

Loki _always _demands ice cream first.

Cautiously, Thor shuts off the ignition and locks the doors as he gets out, only to find Loki staring angrily at the pavement as he kicks a stone.

"We can get ice cream first then," Thor tries and leads his brother towards the mall connected to the theater. It's somewhere new—Sif, who loves ice cream nearly as much as Loki, recommended the place, and he hopes the good quality will brighten Loki's mood.

As much as he wants to, he does not swing an arm around Loki's shoulders, because he doesn't know how his brother will interpret it. Instead, he keeps his hands at his sides, and at one point, Loki walks so closely that their hands brush across each other's.

"Sorry," Thor murmurs awkwardly and folds his arms to ensure it doesn't happen again.

When they reach the shop and Thor buys Loki his promised cup of strawberry-flavored ice cream, Loki barely even touches it. Thor finishes half of his chocolate scoop, before he can't hold back anymore.

"Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else."

"No, it tastes fine." As if to prove his words, Loki takes another few bites, but then stops and takes to staring at the couple noisily flirting behind them.

Thor tries to figure out where he is going wrong—last night was a mistake, but he's been making so many efforts to fix this. Each attempt seems to do the opposite of correcting the problem, and Thor can't figure out why. What happened to the carefree, affectionate brother who used to fight dragons with him, who insisted on late night journeys to the park, who pulled pranks at the dinner table just to make Thor laugh? Even last night, he caught a glimpse of a more playful Loki closer to his brother of the past.

Then, he remembers Loki was drunk. Maybe this is just how Loki normally feels about him now.

Lately they haven't spent much time together, not during the school year when Loki was studying for advanced curricular classes and when Thor struggled to be with him whenever his odd class hours didn't conflict with Loki's spare time. And over the summer, Thor spent so much time studying words in order to convince Loki to stay that he lost time he could have spent with his brother.

Maybe Loki just doesn't enjoy spending time together the way they used to as children. Maybe to him, this is a chore.

Thor bites his tongue to keep his heart from rising any higher in his throat. It takes several moments for him to compose himself enough to speak. "We don't have to see the movie," he says.

Loki's eyes dart towards his. "What?"

The couple behind him giggles uncontrollably at some stupid joke, and Thor's stomach twists. He clears his throat. "If you want, we can skip the movie. And just go home."

Loki's eyes start to sparkle in the light of the ice cream parlor, though Thor thinks it might just be because his own vision grows more blurry with every second. "Okay," Loki says, very quietly, and finishes his ice cream.

Thor makes sure to keep his hand from brushing Loki's again on the way out to the parking lot, though Loki walks a safer distance away this time. They get into the car, and Thor drives off—his mind filled with words. It's his turn

_Forlorn_, he could say. _Bitter. Passion. Unbearable._

He doesn't say any of them, because why should he play this game anymore if Loki does not want to be with him, even as a friend. They don't speak, until they get home and Thor pulls the car into the garage.

"Loki," he says before his brother can get out.

Loki stops and looks at him with an expression of such hope that it nearly blinds him.

"Loki, I should have said this a while ago," he says, heart pounding with guilt. "Last night was a mistake, and I'm so sorry for . . ."

Loki freezes for a moment before his eyes well up with tears. He scrambles out of the car.

Stunned, Thor retrieves his keys to go after his brother, but by the time he makes it upstairs, Loki is shut in his room, and the door is locked. Thor's forehead drops onto the smooth wood of the door, and he withholds everything he wants to say, everything he wants to do.

"Loki?"

There's no answer.

"I'm sorry," Thor says and goes to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Editing? What is this editing you speak of? I just closed my eyes and clicked post. I'm so sorry. Hope you enjoy it anyway. XD And I hope the length makes up for its prior absence.

Day Five

"_I think you should talk to him," _Sif says over the phone.

Thor adjusts the phone against his shoulder so that he can stir the pancake batter. "I already tried. You know how that ended."

"_Well, try again. Maybe things will be better now that it's the next day."_

"Sif, he has every right not to forgive me for what I did."

"_What, for kissing him? From what you told me, he seemed enthusiastic himself—if he can't forgive you, then I have lost all respect for him." _She laughs softly. _"I can't believe you did that, by the way."_

He blushes, and pours a little of the batter into the pan, taking care to remember his mother's advice that less is more in the end. "Well, I'll try to talk," Thor says. "If he ever comes out of his room."

"_Fair enough. Some advice though?" _She pauses. _"Don't apologize to him."_

He sets down the pan and rests against the counter to give his friend his full attention. "What do you mean?"

"_I was there, Thor. I saw how happy he looked that night, and from what you're telling me, he was just as happy when you took him to the car," _Sif explains. _"Now I'm not trying to say he returns your feelings—I can't guess that much—but you're calling that time he was happy a 'mistake.'"_

"You really think so?"

"_I do. Tell him how you feel, tell him you won't expect him to feel the same. Talk about that. Don't apologize. For all you know, he might actually like you too."_

Thor grips the phone tightly in his hand, and breathes in through his nose. He remembers yesterday how nicely Loki dressed and how Loki walked so closely to him—while he struggled to prove his unconditional platonic love and not offend or discomfort Loki in any way, could he really have proven just the opposite of what he intended?

The sizzling sound of pancake reminds Thor he's cooking. And judging from the smell, he's also burning it. "Oh, sorry, I'll call you later!" He shuts off his phone and turns to flip the pancake over, just as Loki walks through the door to the kitchen.

They both stop what they're doing and look at each other as if a glass wall stands between them.

"I thought you were Mom," Loki says, and then crinkles his nose at the half-burnt pancake. "Though I suppose I could have guessed."

"She's at work today," Thor says.

"Mmm. Sorry to bother you then," Loki says and turns to head back up the stairs.

"Wait." He hurries over to grab Loki's wrist, and then regretfully lets go when Loki turns to him. "I—I made breakfast. To return the favor." He smiles hopefully, remembering Sif's advice to be more open and inviting. "Will you talk to me?"

Loki's eyes narrow. "About what?"

"Anything." Thor pauses. "Though—I did want to apologize for apologizing yesterday—ah." He runs a hand through his hair, and laughs at himself, conscious of Loki's emerald eyes boring holes into his skull. "I mean . . . I'm trying to say that the night before last—you know, the one where we almost—I didn't mean it was a mistake. Well, I did, but not—"

Loki raises an eyebrow. "The pancake is burning."

"Fuck," Thor grumbles and races back to the stove and flips it onto the counter top, as he isn't ready with a plate. "_ Fuck _. I'll take this one. I swear, I make these fine all the time. Just let me try again."

"Well, maybe you should stop doing other things while you cook," Loki says simply and takes a seat at the kitchen table. "We've known for some time that you're horrible at multitasking."

"Shush," Thor says easily, pleased to see his brother is staying. He focuses on the next three without speaking, and cooks them perfectly to his great satisfaction. Setting them in a stack on plates, Thor takes the previously mashed strawberries and spreads them across Loki's, as well as applying a heavy amount of butter and syrup. "Do you want more than two?" he asks.

"Two is fine."

Thor brings the plates over and sets the strawberry ones in front of Loki while sitting across the table, close enough that their feet brush under the table. He blushes. "So . . . are we okay?"

Loki takes a bite slowly. The fact that he even swallows it says loads of his satisfaction. "Are we?" he asks. An unreadable mask covers his face.

"I'm not sure how . . . but I know I hurt you yesterday."

Frowning, he cuts a section with his fork. "Are you asking my forgiveness?"

"No." Thor takes a couple of bites of his own pancakes to give himself enough time to think about what he really wants here. The second he realizes the truth of his feelings, the more confident he feels. "I want to know how I hurt you so that I can make sure to be better in the future," he says.

Loki visibly considers the answer as he finishes his first pancake. "Hm," he says after a moment. "What if I don't want to tell you?"

Every one of his muscles struggles not to flinch. "Then I guess that would be it. And I would just do the best I can with what I know."

A deliberate smile spreads through Loki's lips, sweet as sugar. He leans back in his chair and licks the syrup from his fork in a clearly suggestive way, though subtle enough that Thor can't comment. "That's it then?" Loki says. "No pleading, no harassing, no demanding? Truly, Brother, what is wrong with you? You never took no for an answer before."

Thor stares, unmoving, at the sight of Loki's tongue on the fork, imagining how it would feel directed elsewhere. "I'm trying to see things from your perspective now."

"Mmm." Loki doesn't say anything more, but the statement clearly reaches him. He chews his next bit of pancake much less sexually and watches Thor with a new level of respect that didn't exist until now. "How about another game?" he asks between mouthfuls.

"What sort of game?"

Loki smiles, a twinkle in his eye. "You said I was 'happy' two nights ago? Make me just as happy again today, and I will answer any of your questions truthfully tonight."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Thor says.

"The same way you always would."

Sighing, Thor rests his elbows on the table and rubs his temples. "I'm always trying to make you happy, Loki. Well, _almost _always," he adds before Loki can cut in, "but I mess up constantly. Yesterday is proof enough of that."

"Yes," Loki agrees, "it is. Games aren't meant to be easy."

He finishes the rest of his second pancake, and then mindlessly shoves his plate towards Thor's. It's a test, Thor knows, to see how far he is willing to go to fix what happened. He would tease Loki for acting so spoiled if he wasn't hanging on Loki's every word to make this right.

"How about a hint then?" Loki says. "A place to start so that you're not completely clueless. Take me to the movie tonight, as you failed to do yesterday. I expect ice cream, and if you're good, I won't demand more when we get home. Does that sound acceptable?"

His brother is only joking, but Thor sighs with affection. "You're going to get fat." He doesn't mean it. Despite the fact that Loki constantly demands dessert, his waist is nearly thinner than Sif's, and Thor wonders whether it's because his brother doesn't eat enough or because he sneaks out and exercises under Thor's nose. The latter would explain how Loki always manages to outrun his temper.

Smirking, Loki rests his chin in his hands. "Regardless, you know it's a necessity to win this game. Are we agreed?"

"What if I mess up again?" Thor asks seriously. "I literally have no idea what to do. You clearly weren't enjoying yourself yesterday, but now you tell me you do want to see the movie. I'm horrible at guessing what you want."

"Obviously. So stop guessing and just do what you normally do."

"Which is?"

"How should I know? Whatever feels right, I guess." With an impish grin, Loki stands up and tucks his chair in. "By the way, you left the stove on."

While Thor hurries to turn it off, Loki disappears upstairs to his room, leaving Thor with two dirty dishes and the morning classes he must attend. Though nervous, Thor feels hopeful knots in his chest twist together in his stomach—this is a second chance, and Thor will take the generosity eagerly, with every intention to do it right this time.

He scrubs the dishes clean, and drives to class humming to himself the whole way. Classes give him time to reflect upon yesterday and see where he went wrong. He remembers Loki's mood first deflated the second he walked out of his room dressed and ready to go.

He plans to try something different.

When he gets home around five and knocks on Loki's door, Loki steps out, dressed less provocatively but just as tempting in his fitted shirt and slacks. Thor forces his eyes up to Loki's face, which settles cool and unreadable as ever.

He eases into a smile. "You look nice," he says without thinking.

Surprisingly Loki smiles back. "Thank you. Shall we?"

This time, Thor follows Loki's advice and acts the way he always would. Without the stress of coming across incorrectly, he drowns the car ride and the trip to the ice cream parlor in ripe conversations of his day and how his friends are recovering from Loki's drunken behavior.

Loki's spirits rise, encouraging Thor to keep to the pace, and when Loki's hand brushes his on the way out, he doesn't apologize, as Sif warned. Instead he elbows his brother playfully, and receives a sharp jab to the gut in return. For a second, he wants Loki to do it again, because deep down he _does _want to hold hands. He has wanted that for an age.

The moment passes, and Thor isn't sure if it would be appropriate anyway.

During the movie, Loki makes the move for him.

Loki sits his hand on the arm rest for a long time before casually entwining their hands, and Thor's heart pounds in his chest as he looks towards his brother. Loki's eyes shine under the bright light of the movie with no small twinkle. A smile shapes the line of his cheekbones, gorgeously swathed in shadow.

He relaxes and lets their fingers lock more comfortably. "Are you happy?" Thor whispers. He needs to know.

Loki stares at him. "Do you think I am?"

Viewers around them fidget in their seats as they glance Thor's way—but Loki seems to care little for them, and Thor needs to win this game. He does make an effort to lower his voice. "Yes?" he chances.

"Watch the movie, Thor," Loki says dismissively, but as Thor turns to do just that, he catches the small beginning of a smirk and knows it's working.

* * *

"So."

"So?" Thor asks, rubbing a hand across his forehead. It's impossible to tell what Loki feels any given moment, let alone for an entire night, and he most of all wants to know his brother enjoyed himself.

"Are you ever going to mention that night, or are we going to pretend it never happened?"

Thor winces. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Something is better than nothing." Loki stalks over to the windows and pulls up the blinds. The night sky floods the room with starlight and moonlight, and he stalks over to turn off the lamp. Every movement reeks of frustration and distress, and Thor fears the worst.

He faces Loki in defeat. "You're not happy," he says.

"No. I _was _happy," Loki says. "You win. Now I'm telling you what's wrong. So I'll ask you again." He pauses, and folds his arms. Long slender fingers wrap around his elbow, except every aspect of the position looks brittle and tense. "When are you planning on talking about that night?"

The information throws Thor's head into a frenzy. Surprise and pleasure that he won the game and will finally understand what plagues Loki's mind, but also concern and nervousness—this conversation will hurt.

"I don't know," Thor says honestly.

"You don't know."

"No." Thor stares Loki down. "What happened happened. I don't know what else you want me to say about it."

"I want you to _say whatever pops into your mind _!" Loki fumes. His arms fly up into the air. "Like you _always _do! I want you to stop acting so nervous around me, like I'm a shard of glass, and just go for things! I want you to go at it nonstop, I want you to never give up, I want you to be my _brother. _What is with you?"

Thor stays perfectly still during the tirade of shouting. He waits to make sure Loki is done, before he answers softly, "I don't want to lose you." It's immediately clear he said the wrong thing.

"You don't want to lose me," Loki repeats. "You don't want to lose me, but you won't even give me the next word to convince me to stay! I think you secretly want me to leave. That's what you _do _to people, you use them, and then you—"

"I _don't _want you to leave!"

Loki's mouth snaps shut.

"I don't want you to leave," Thor says again and stalks around the edge of the bed so Loki can't see his face. He runs hands through his own hair in an effort to claw out the desperation welling inside of his head—it's Loki, who doesn't want to stay, not him who wants Loki to leave, not him. But then he realizes what Loki said, and spins around. "What do you mean I 'use' people?"

Tears well up at the corners of his brother's eyes. He won't speak.

"Loki," Thor says, realizing this is much more serious than he realized. His legs take him forward without any thought, and his arms circle around his brother—even though it's awkward and tense with the truth between them now. "Loki, what is it?"

Hands shove weakly at Thor's strength, but it's halfhearted. "Let me go, Thor."

Thor only holds on tighter. "We're never going to get anywhere if you don't let me in. I won the game, didn't I? I made you happy. So tell me what you mean."

Still nothing.

It's so hard to resist placing his lips upon his brother's jet-black hair, with the trembling, tearful mass in his arms screaming for affection. "Please, Loki," Thor says. "How do I use people?"

"You don't want me,"Loki whispers. "I—I tried, and you—didn't want me. B-Because you finally got a taste of what you thought you wanted, and then you realized you didn't want it at all."

"What do you mean . . ." The words fade with the same breath they started.

Thor instantly knows what Loki means—that night, in the car, when they were drunk. Loki isn't angry because Thor nearly took advantage. Loki is hurt that Thor _didn't _. Warmth floods his heart that Loki loves him that way and is willing to share the details of each other's passions, even though they are brothers.

But he pushes those thoughts aside, because Loki doesn't see that Thor withdrew only because he respected his brother's privacy and didn't want to offend.

"I do want you," Thor says, though he knows already Loki won't believe him.

Sure enough, Loki shoves at him and breaks away. "Right," he says, swiping at his own tears, "that's why you refused my advances. That's why you touch me like it's a chore. That's why you won't even try to win and get me to stay. Why don't you stop lying to yourself and leave me alone?"

His brother pulls the shutters of his mask over his face like a veil, and Thor frantically grabs at his shoulders. "I stopped giving you words because I didn't want to _force_ you to stay!"

A heart-wrenching noise that might be a laugh fills Loki's lungs. His excuses are not working.

"Get out."

"Loki—"

"Now!"

And Thor realizes there's nothing he can do but prove himself with actions.

His grip on Loki's shoulders tightens as he pulls him closer, and before Loki can make any protest, he presses their lips together furiously. A small gasp allows Thor access to the inner palace of Loki's mouth, and their tongues clash and battle in a mad dance for control.

Loki's hands push at Thor's chest, weak enough that Thor doesn't bother stopping. His brother always refuses to believe what's right before his eyes, will stop this moment if he can—to protect his own vulnerability. Thor has absolutely no intention of letting him.

"Thor, please." His voice is muffled by the kiss, but weak and desperate.

Thor responds by pressing closer, and their jeans brush against each other at the hips. Heat stiffens the lower half of Thor's body, and he thinks he might feel a bulge through Loki's pants if he's not imagining it.

"Stop," Loki gasps, "stop."

Of course, Thor does not want to force his brother into anything he isn't ready for. He leans back to survey Loki's face, and sees streaks of tears glistening from the light of the moon outside as well as quivering lips and eyebrows slanted towards his brow. He's beautiful like this, but Thor wishes he would smile.

They stare into each other's eyes for the longest time—Loki, scrutinizing every last motivation behind the kiss, and Thor, willing with every fiber in his being for Loki to see the truth. Thor's arms still clasp around his brother's shoulders, but with a jolt of surprise, he notices that Loki's wrap around him as well, weak but solidly there around his waist.

Loki swallows once, and then parts shivering lips to speak. "You . . . want me to . . ."

"I want you to stay," Thor says. He lifts a hand to caress a misplaced strand of hair on Loki's cheek. "Nothing has changed."

For a moment, Loki appears ready to burst into a string of sobs, and Thor steadies his arms, ready to catch his brother and sink to the floor and hold him like he did when they were children. Then, a smile spreads from cheek to cheek, but not to Loki's eyes, and a smile has never stung of so much falseness before.

Loki leans forward and kisses Thor's neck.

It's like every single fantasy as well as every single fear coming to life in the same moment.

"Loki—mmm—"

Loki nips at his flesh, while the hands on his waist draw towards the hem of his shirt and slide up on Thor's tanner skin. The chill sends shivers down his spine, and still, this isn't what he wants.

"Loki, wait—" He bites back a cry when their erections touch beneath their clothes.

"What?" Loki says, breath hot at Thor's earlobe.

His cock throbs with interest, but he won't do this without consent."Is this truly—ah—what you want?"

Lips pressed to Thor's neck, Loki hums. "Mmhmm."

Thor's hands move on their own and scope out the shape of his brother's back, though the thick black clothing conceals milky skin from his view. He closes his eyes, as Loki presses closer, chest to chest, hands to shoulders, and finally he forces himself to open his eyes and pull back enough to see Loki's face.

"I mean it," Thor says. "Is this what you want?"

Loki nods. His smile thankfully turns a little more genuine. "I've kept secrets too. I want it, Thor."

But the image won't leave his mind. It's the type of face that indicates a dishonesty, but Thor can't pinpoint the exact lie that Loki told. Thor must have shown hesitation in his movements, because Loki's hot breath suddenly puffs into his ear.

"I want to_ suck your cock_," Loki whispers.

Then he drops to his knees, hands traveling down Thor's sides as he goes, and Thor banishes the uneasiness from his mind. Loki wants this. It's always been Thor's most impossible dream, his wildest fantasy, and right now, right here, Loki's fingers are unzipping the folds of his pants, tugging denim and fabric down, unleashing his hardened cock for both of them to see—and Thor wants this, too.

"Loki," Thor gasps, as his brother's slender hands brush across skin, close, but not close enough. "Loki, please . . ."

A whisper of air hits his cock, and Thor only realizes after the wave of incredible pleasure that it was Loki laughing. "Patience," his brother says, "or do you even have such a thing?" Then Loki's tongue darts to lick the base of his cock, and Thor almost topples over.

He rests his hands on Loki's shoulders for balance, and struggles for breath as his brother's tongue travels up and down his cock, swirling patterns and trails that are unmistakably _Loki's_. His brother has him falling apart. What would his friends say? What would his parents say? He finds the thought sinfully arousing, rather than horrifying.

When Loki's lips curl around the tip of his cock, Thor lets out a groan that might have shaken the whole house for all he knows.

But he forces himself to back away because this is not how he wants to do this. "Wait," he breathes.

Loki's head tilts to look up at Thor, a crease between his eyebrows signaling his confusion—and a trace of uncertainty. "Change your mind?" he asks. Despite the stability of his tone, his hands, still on Thor's hips, tremble slightly. The smile—the false one—reappears, and Thor wants more than anything else to make it go away.

"No," Thor says simply. "Get on the bed."

Smirking, Loki climbs into bed and pushes the covers off. "Having trouble standing? Or are you wanting to fuck me instead?" He starts working on his own jeans in the process, as if in answer to his own question.

Without responding, Thor follows him and throws the unfastened pair of Levis off the bed next to his own clothing. Loki starts to turn on his stomach, but Thor grabs his shoulder and forces him onto his back instead. "Not like that," he says and kisses his brother. Loki's lips feel so soft and smooth, and Thor takes the time to _feel _them fully before going deeper.

He breaks the kiss only long enough to tug Loki's shirt over their heads. Then he dives back, intent on tasting every inch of Loki's mouth, the underside of his tongue, the width of his teeth. Loki hums, their lips vibrating under the wave of sound. Suddenly Loki pushes at his chest, and Thor backs away.

"What is it?" he asks, his lips still pressed against his brother's as he speaks..

His brother pants, his tongue robbed of words. Instead, he takes the opportunity to remove Thor's shirt, and tosses it to the side only to tug Thor's head closer towards his own.

It's not often his brother speaks with actions. "Cat got your tongue?" Thor teases.

"Shut up and fuck me already."

Thor arranges himself so their chests are pressed together, and he traps Loki's legs between his. Their cocks brush against each other, sending a wordless cry through Thor's mouth. He feels Loki's hips buck towards his, and a symmetrical spasm passes between their bodies. Loki's arms wrap around Thor's back, clawing marks of pleasure down his spine.

"Do you even _know _how?" Loki asks between heavy pants. "You're doing it wrong. You need to let my legs up."

Thor grins. "Shush."

He wants the first time to be perfect—for both of them—and what Loki is suggesting will be far too uncomfortable for his brother's first time. Instead, he reaches down and directs his cock between Loki's thighs. It ghosts over the base of Loki's cock, and when Thor looks up, he sees a silent 'o' curving Loki's mouth.

Loki looks beautiful—his eyes shine with pleasure, his eyebrows furrow into a line of utter need. Still, it's discerning for his brother to speak so little. "You okay?" Thor asks.

"I . . ." He trails off.

Thor chuckles, and the heavy laughter makes their chests bump together. It's soon after that Loki's laughter joins his, except it's tainted by embarrassment.

"Fine. I'm fine—just . . . I can't—think—" he murmurs.

"What? Say that again?"

"Shut up, just _do it_."

Thor slowly sinks his hips into Loki's, his cock throbbing with need as he feels the tight trap between Loki's thighs. Loki moans heavily as his cock is trapped between their bellies. He lies there for a time, staring at the raven tresses of his brother's hair, the sweat glistening on his forehead, and the feel of their bodies pressed warmly together.

He still remembers the false smile painted across Loki's lips. He even remembers the first night they started the game, a glint appeared in Loki's eyes, dangerous and crafty. Will this be enough to convince Loki not to leave him forever? Does it matter if it's not?

"What—are you—waiting for?"

Thor smiles and strokes a stray lock of hair behind his brother's ear. "I love you." He begins to thrust into the space between Loki's thighs.

Minutes later, Loki trembles incoherently, and Thor's hand and Loki's legs are coated in semen. Thor thrusts one final time before succumbing to the raging heat roaring within his body. He collapses onto his elbow, near Loki's side, and holds his brother as they ride out their release.

Loki's cheeks glow as he smiles. "I love you, too," he says, belatedly.

In this moment, hope builds, and Thor believes Loki will stay.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello guys,

Unfortunately I will no longer be updating this story on this site.

However, you can read the next chapter that I just posted on my ao3 (sigyndenning) or at my tumblr (loxxxlay). When I post the last two chapters to this series, you can find them in those two places as well. :)

I may come back here to post them later, but as of now, it is too stressful. I apologize. Hopefully this arrangement will work for you though.


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